


Can I Just Be in My Head with you?

by cantfuckinbelievethis (orphan_account)



Series: Bus AUs [6]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, High School, M/M, alternating pov, but i'm still putting it in my bus au series, i just think that's how he would feel toward himself, i'm not being mean to mickey about not taking that step, it's like only really half au, new york citayyyyy, reunited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 20:23:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10929381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/cantfuckinbelievethis
Summary: Mickey glanced at the redhead again as he passed, thinking to himself that the guy seemed pretty hot and was worth a second look. Only, when the redhead finally lifted his head, Mickey’s eyes widened for a moment before he almost literally sprinted to two rows behind him, flopping down and trying to calm his racing heart beat. It was almost like ten years ago again.Holy shit.





	Can I Just Be in My Head with you?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not actually back until mid June, but I couldn't help myself when inspiration hit me today! Also it's IDAHOBIT, so. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy - I've missed writing IxM!! 
> 
> Tumblr: cantfuckinbelievethis

Mickey grunted and glanced at his watch before gazing down the irritatingly bus-free street. This is what he gets for choosing the bus instead of the subway today. NYC’s public transport was honestly atrocious sometimes.   
  
    He cursed Mandy in his head for her warning as he walked out the door this morning. _Why are you catching the fucking bus, dickhead? You know you’ll be late again._   
  
    It was getting a little ridiculous how many times he was late to work. Sooner or later Svetlana was going to regret giving him his first break in NYC, if she didn’t already, since he wasn’t exactly what you’d call a model customer service representative. It was just so hard talking to the art gallery’s visitors, because they were usually really pretentious and rich — two of the things he hated most in the world. Still, if he wanted that pay check and for Svet to maybe put some of his work up, he would have to deal.   
  
    He checked his watch once more before sighing, tapping his foot. The bus was ten minutes late, and he was already in a fucking bad mood.   
  
    His barista was a redhead.   
  
    And he didn’t like fucking carrot tops — alien lookin’ motherfuckers.   
  
    They always reminded him of a particular redhead.   
  


* * *

Ian tapped his fingers against the edge of the bus’ window, bobbing his head a little to the music playing loudly in his ears. He loved the bus. Usually people in NYC took the subway, since it was faster and just that touch more reliable, but he loved the bus. It was just his time to chill out and listen to music. Pretty much his only time to do that, really.   
  
    Since moving to NYC a year after college with Lip, all he seemed to do was work. It’s not like he anything else to occupy his time, anyway. So he just slaved away, trying to move up the ladder of the publishing house he worked at. He was still only in his entry level position, but at least he was stable and happy…if a little lonely. Even during college he really hadn’t gotten into any relationships, just hooked up a bit with people. In New York, it was no different. It just didn’t feel worth it. From his experience, these things only ended in heartbreak and mistaken love confessions.   
  
    He rolled his eyes to himself as the next song came on.   
  
    He loved it, but it reminded him a little too much of someone.   
  
  _He’s got blue eyes like the Devil’s water; I’d drink the Devil’s water anytime with you._   
  


* * *

_Fifteen and hanging out on the roof of the abandoned buildings they loved, Ian felt settled and content sitting next to his best friend. He was leaning against Mickey in a clear violation of Mickey’s hatred of people being in his personal space, but he was high and Mickey didn’t complain._  
  
 _‘Damn, Gallagher, you’re such a lightweight.’ Mickey chuckled, taking the last hit from his joint before chucking it over the edge of the building._  
  
 _Before he could breathe it out, Ian had his chin gripped with his long fingers and he was tilting Mickey’s face towards his. He parted his lips and Mickey breathed out almost subconsciously as he couldn’t take his eyes off Ian’s barely open mouth. Ian inhaled the smoke smoothly and Mickey choked on his own spit._  
  
 _Ian laughed as Mickey started coughing roughly, hitting himself in the chest. ‘_ I’m _the lightweight, am I?’_  
  
 _‘Fuck off,’ Mickey wheezed._  
  
 _Feeling brave and a little reckless, Ian teased, ‘Got distracted, did ya?’_  
  
 _Mickey scoffed, finally over his coughing fit. ‘What the fuck would have distracted me, dickhead?’_  
  
 _Ian shrugged a little, moving his hand to grip Mickey’s upper thigh. Mickey didn’t take any notice of touches like this anymore, he figured Gallagher was just a touchy person and it didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t. It couldn’t be everything Mickey kind of wanted it to be, because he would be dead if it was. And it was better being with Ian like this than having what he wanted and then losing it._  
  
 _‘Same thing that gets me pretty distracted sometimes,’ Ian said quietly, looking at Mickey._  
  
 _Mickey stared back, a little aghast at how strange Ian was being. It was almost like…_  
  
 _Out of nowhere, Ian leant in and pressed his lips to his best friend’s softly, kissing him once…and twice…before gently pulling away. Mickey stared, eyes wide, as Ian’s mouth crooked up at the corner, clearly shocked at himself but also very happy about it. Meanwhile, panic rose in Mickey’s chest and he shoved Ian away. He stood and tried to calm down the thundering sound of his blood and heart as Ian stared up at him with hurt in his eyes._  
  
 _‘Why did you fuckin’ do that?’ Mickey snapped._  
  
 _Ian stood and Mickey stumbled away slightly. Somehow he was angry at Ian; he was_ furious _. All of the care he’d taken in not doing the very same thing immediately went down the drain, Ian had ruined everything. What was he supposed to do now? It had happened._  
  
 _‘Mick, c’mon, don’t act like this,’ Ian pleaded. ‘You must’ve seen this coming! You know the way we act.’_  
  
 _Mickey blinked, anxiety pounding through him. ‘Act like what?’_  
  
 _‘Everyone already thinks we’re a couple or wants us to be!’ Ian cried._  
  
 _‘_ Everyone _?’ Mickey repeated, tears pricking behind his eyes. ‘What do you fuckin’ mean?!’_  
  
 _‘Mickey— just—’ Ian could barely speak, realising how much he had fucked up._  
  
 _Mickey ran a hand through his hair, clenching it into a fist. He couldn’t believe what was happening. How could this happen? What was he supposed to do now? What was he supposed to_ do _for fuck’s sake?_  
  
 _‘Would it be that bad — to be with me?’ Ian demanded, his voice growing louder in his panic._  
  
 _‘Stop, Ian, just stop,’ Mickey almost pleaded, leaning over and taking deep breaths to try not to have a panic attack. When Ian kept talking, it all reached his ears as merely sounds, he had no idea what he was saying, but it was the loudest, most scary noises he’d ever heard. ‘Stop!’ he shouted, standing up properly and glowering at Ian._  
  
 _‘I love you!’ Ian shouted back just as loud, voice breaking in the middle and face scrunching up at the end. He tilted his head down and inwards slightly, knowing that now he had ended everything. There was no going back now._  
  
 _‘You can’t,’ Mickey said quietly, voice also breaking and dipping from his tears. ‘Ian. You can’t.’_  
  
 _‘Why the hell not?’ Ian challenged. ‘I know what you feel for me — you can’t fake that.’_  
  
 _Clenching his jaw, Mickey spat out the only words he could think of to shut Ian up, ‘I don’t feel anything for you. You’ve imagined it all, and if you keep this bullshit up, we can’t be friends, Gallagher.’_  
  
 _Ian stared back at him, heart almost audibly cracking. A tear finally fell and he quickly wiped his cheek, not wanting Mickey to see, but he knew he already did. ‘We’re not just_ friends _, Mick. We never were.’ He let that settle in the air for the moment, knowing that Mickey finally understood what he was saying. Unfortunately for both of them, it really meant nothing good anymore, not like it was supposed to. ‘So…I guess we’re done. Find me if you ever come to your fucking senses.’_  
  
 _Turning away, Ian began to walk away. He paused for a moment, when he thought he heard Mickey say something, but when nothing else came, he continued walking — right out the door and right out of Mickey’s life._   
  


* * *

Mickey sighed in relief when the bus finally rounded the corner. He glanced at his cup of coffee in his hand before quickly disposing of it in a nearby bin, half full. Waving down the bus, he hurried back to where it would stop and got out his metro card. The doors shuttered open and it was like all the stress left his body.   
  
    He boarded, swiping his card and heading to sit down. He scanned the bus to choose his seat when he spotted yet _another_ redhead, looking down at his phone. He rolled his eyes slightly as he walked through, knowing he was going to be especially grumpy today and Svet would not be happy about it when he finally pisses a customer off.   
  
    Mickey glanced at the redhead again as he passed, thinking to himself that the guy seemed pretty hot and was worth a second look. Only, when the redhead finally lifted his head, Mickey’s eyes widened for a moment before he almost literally sprinted to two rows behind him, flopping down and trying to calm his racing heart beat. It was almost like ten years ago again.   
  
   _Holy shit._   
  


* * *

Ian stared in shock at the space that he was _sure_ Mickey Milkovich had previously stood in before making that short distance run to his seat. But…it couldn’t be. It couldn’t be just random luck and coincidence that Mickey would be in New York at the same time as him. On his visits back home, he did find out that Mickey and Mandy had moved away when their dad died two years after he started college, but he never found out where.   
  
    After that day, he had only seen Mickey around the place for the next three years, and the day he left for college in Colorado, he saw him walking down the street on the bus there, and then never saw him again. Until now.   
  
    Until seven years later.

* * *

Mickey really had no idea what to do. He noticed Ian glance back at him — once…twice… _again_. He really wasn’t being subtle, and if Mickey wasn’t so busy avoiding his gaze, he would laugh. Gallagher really never had any chill.   
  
    Just seeing Ian again brought him back to that day full speed, but it also brought him back to hanging out with him, wishing the entire time that he could have what he so desperately wanted. He had Ian in his head, until Ian made the decision for both of them to make it real and everything fell apart.   
  
    Mickey always felt like a pussy for the way everything went down. He knew he shouldn’t — it wasn’t his fault his dad was such a prick, or so says his shrink anyway. Still, he felt like losing Ian was all his fault and that he was a coward about the whole thing. He wasn’t sure if that’s how Ian felt, but he always imagined that’s how he did.   
  
    When Ian glanced back once more and they finally made eye contact, Mickey realised. He was free. He was far from Chicago, he was happy, he had a job, his dad was dead, and he and his sister were safe. He finally could take the next step; he could make the brave decision this time. It would’ve probably been a stupid idea to do it back then, but he could now. He wondered if Ian was still waiting, like he realised he had pretty much been this entire time.   
  
    The words “ _find me if you ever come to your fucking senses_ ” flashed through his mind like an order.   
  
    Without thinking about it, his body decided it was time to stand and walk over to Ian. He grabbed onto the poles, trying to steady himself as the bus swayed him side to side. Ian just stared back at him — the same green eyes that had broken in front of him all those years ago. Finally, Mickey got to the seat next to him and sat down.   
  
    They stared at each other in silence for a moment before Mickey cleared his throat, voice cracking as he finally said, ‘Sorry I’m late.’


End file.
